


Partners in Everything

by Ellenka



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, Wicked Winter, everthorne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-20 16:42:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellenka/pseuds/Ellenka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We really are better off as a pair, or How Curiosity Nipped the Catnip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Partners in Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "Wicked Winter" ficathlon. Prompt: Gale/Katniss, curiosity killed your virginity.

Sometimes, I can't help but think growing up is overrated.

Becoming bigger, stronger, and a more capable hunter is most welcome, but there are certain setbacks I hadn't anticipated. With my sister too small and precious to be burdened with sordid details, and mother gone too far into her own world where I don't even want to follow, I'm mostly left to deal with them alone.

Luckily, the cramps come only a few times a year, because my body obviously doesn't have enough energy to bleed every month. Anyway, I can deal with the pain just fine.

I'm more at loss when an inexplicable sweet ache comes, throbbing between my legs and stubbornly trying to capture my thoughts. At first, I just will it to go away, because there are more important matters at hand. Only sometimes, when there's nobody around, I can't help but wonder how it would feel to satisfy it. Once it comes at night after Prim had crawled to Mother's bed instead and left me all alone, I let my fingers slip down, furiously trying to rub the odd itch away until my body tenses and releases, heart pounding and breath coming short, and I have to bite the blanket to stifle a moan of surprise and confused pleasure.

The feeling is unlike anything I've experienced before, intoxicating and impossible to forget, and too tempting to recreate when the next opportunity arises.

/

It takes months of detached listening to girl-talk at school to gather that it supposedly has something to do with touching other people too, with boys and love and also with how babies are made – but you can prevent that part if you know how - and nobody is talking about doing it alone.

I don't either. After all, there's only one person I trust enough to share all my secrets with, and in this case, I can't do that. This is not something I could share with my very best friend, who happens to be a boy I usually meet in the woods where we hunt and gather to keep our half-orphaned families alive. Gale and I talk and smile and laugh and frown and curse the regime that threatens to kill us for venturing beyond the fence every day. We share the thoughts we couldn't voice inside the District, and thoughts we wouldn't share with anyone else.

Yet I know that some things are beyond our friendly bond, and have to remain unspoken unless we were to change it.

/

It gets worse when slight echoes of the strange feeling begin to attack me in Gale's presence – when he winks and smiles and the sunlight catches on his face just right, when our hands brush, when I grudgingly let him hug me to console me or to warm me. Or when his eyes linger on me a bit too long, and I have to turn away sharply to hide my blush and irritably wonder if he can indeed read my thoughts.

/

I have spent countless hours watching Gale's hands work, and I can recall them to the last tiny scar. Sometimes, when I lie awake at night, I imagine them touching me instead, and can't help but wonder how different they would feel from my own.

Then I always bite my lips pull my own hand away like it burned me, scrunching the blanket between my legs and willing the tingle to go away. I open and close my eyes restlessly, but no option helps me to force away the images of full lips and sparkling gray eyes and lean muscles under tanned skin.

"Damn you, Gale," I mouth into the darkness that suddenly feels lonely, even though my mother and sister fill the room with soft breathing.

/

Sometimes, I find it hard to look him in the eye the next day, or to look at him at all, or  _not to_  look at him. We cooperate as seamlessly as always, but there's a new tension between us. I feel it in every lingering look and "accidental" touch, and I know Gale well enough to know he feels it too.

The unspoken desire to be closer seems to be driving us apart, and that irritates me to no end. That doesn't stop me from trying to punish Gale for the things he does to me without even consciously trying, though.

/

"Are you ever going to tell me what's up, Catnip?" Gale asks once, after I'd rejected my place on our usual tight meeting spot and sat in the grass below, my arms crossed over my chest. I turn away to hide a blush and purse my lips, not quite able to tell him that this time it's something he did to me in my own waking dream, and I  _loved_ it.

"Huh?" He flops down beside me, lightly brushing my arm to get my attention.

"I… I can't," I force out.

He gives a little frustrated snort in answer. "Happens all the time nowadays, doesn't it?"

I sigh and chance a look at him. He's not playing dumb, just trying to make a step from our uncomfortable little stalemate. "Yeah," I concede, silently commending him for the effort.

Gale studies my face for a moment, with longing that reminds me of my own almost too much, and tentatively continues, "Look, we are partners, right?" His smile is bright and reassuring as always, but a spark of mischief in his eyes makes me think I'd catch fire if I dared to look there for too long.

"Yeah, for hunting," I mutter, gazing down at my own uninteresting fingers and entwining them in my lap.

I flinch slightly when Gale reaches to cup my face and coaxes me to look back at him, the pressure of his fingertips incredibly gentle but somehow more irresistible than any force could be.

"For everything, Catnip," he says softly, running his thumb over my cheek and along my chin, just shy of brushing my lower lip. The touch is light but electric, sending shivers all over my body and heightening the need I keep trying to suppress. My eyelids droop on their own accord and mouth parts in an inaudible sigh. Gale leans in, so close I can taste his breath. "Everything you want. Anything. I just want you to know I'm here for you." He looks slightly relieved that I hadn't turned away yet, and takes a deep breath. "Katniss, I…"

I think I know what he wants to say, the emotion in his eyes is clear as day – a day out here, bright and untainted by the coal fumes that always press upon us on the other side of the fence. His lips are parted and inviting, body so close to mine I can feel the heat. It's all too much, too powerful, too hard to resist. Too  _meaningful_ , or at least it would be if I let him finish.

I scrunch my lids to block him out and clamp my mouth shut, pressing my lips into a thin line in a vain attempt to stop them from tingling. "Please don't," I mutter and bat at his hand, brushing it away from my face. "Don't go there. Isn't it difficult enough as it is?"

"Yeah," he concedes, his eyes clouding by a mix of apology and hurt. "But we could make the most out of it. Just consider it."

I already do that,  _way_  too often.

"Or don't, whatever you think is best for you. We are friends and you can trust me, you know that, right?"

"Yeah. I know. Sorry?" I venture uncertainly and reach for the hand I'd shaken off moments before.

Gale gives me a reassuring squeeze and rises, pulling me to my feet. "Don't be sorry. Just be yourself."

With him, I can be myself, at least that's what I've thought for years already.

But when he gives me a hug - for all intents and purposes friendly, with our hips kept safely apart -, and I feel his firm chest against mine and his soft lips in my hair, I  _am_  sorry, I just can't help it. My heart hammers to match the fast tune of Gale's, heat stirs and pools in my stomach, hotter and more intimidating than ever before, and I regret the fear that prevents me from sating my curiosity. Gale lets me go even before I try to wiggle free, and when he lets me slip through his fingers, I can tell he regrets it too.

He walks slower than usual most of the way back, and this time he avoids looking at me.

I wish I could bring myself to tell him that I'm not afraid of him, that I'm only afraid of myself and of the feelings his proximity wakes inside me.

I'm afraid of  _us_ changing, even though I know we grow and mature every day, and the sequence of changes that is life won't stop for anyone.

/

It gets only worse towards the summer. The May after my sixteenth birthday is unusually warm, and the scorching weather forces us to venture out earlier and to stay longer, seeking prey in the stillness of brisk dawns and balmy dusks. More often than not, we end up half asleep on a long and mostly fruitless vigil, my head coming to rest on Gale's shoulder, his arm wrapping around me to pull me closer, fingers drawing patterns on my bare arm.

When his lips find their way into my hair, I usually crouch to make myself smaller, hiding my burning face in his chest, and that's no better because the intoxicating scent of his skin fills my nose and I can feel his rapid heartbeat and his muscles contracting and expanding with every breath. In fact, it's much worse, because I just ache to feel his lips on my own, until the need becomes unbearable and I slip out of his embrace to announce we should get home. He looks at me with a mixture of adoration and annoyance, and I can tell he knows that deep down inside, I hate that solution as much as he does.

/

I sit just as close to him every next time.

/

Once, I don't pull away, and lift my head up instead of bowing it, letting Gale's lips roam freely over my skin. He takes his time, moving with gentle patience as if not to scare me off, cupping my face in his palms and covering my forehead and cheeks with kisses. My mouth parts instinctively as he draws near, too curious to resist anymore. Our lips meet in a tingle of sparks and mesh together, hungrily relishing the soft connection. I hold onto Gale's shoulders tightly, anchoring myself to his body as my head spins with breathless delight.

I find it hard to meet his eyes after we pull away, but I  _do_ , forcing myself to be brave enough to acknowledge and admit that I truly wanted the kiss, and subconsciously return Gale's slightly dazed smile. Something in my heart melts at the sight, and my body already aches for more.

This time, I lean in first, and moan softly as I let his tongue slip between my lips to dance with mine. After all, the taste of Gale's kisses and the comfort of his embrace are among the very few luxuries I can afford. The sensation is exquisite, satisfying and tantalizing at the same time, fulfilling a desire only to rouse another, stronger one.

/

The hands in my fantasies are always his after that time, and I bite my memory-tingled lips in the darkness, wondering how would his kisses feel right where I'm touching myself.

Damn.

/

It happens on a hot Sunday, after a quick bath in a creek on our way back from an exceptionally long hunting trip.

Initially, we leave our underwear on, but the worn fabric neither covers nor leaves much to the imagination when wet. My eyes are constantly drawn to Gale's body, following the iridescent droplets of water sliding along the ridges of his muscles. When he reaches for me, I don't hesitate to go into his arms, and let him lift me up onto the soft grassy bank. I can easily tell he's just as aroused as I am, and the realization fills me with both anxiety and excitement. In the years we've known each other, our bodies have learned to function as one, anticipating each other's movements and subconsciously responding in kind, and the harmony feels even more pronounced when we seek pleasure together.

Gale's hands are always where I want them the most, even when it's seemingly everywhere at once. His mouth follows suit, wandering down my neck to caress my chest and nibble at my breasts through my old flimsy bra before pushing the wet fabric aside. He's never seen or touched me like this before, but the incessant motion of his tongue makes me feel so much I have no room left for self-consciousness. Still holding onto his shoulders, I lean backwards, arching like a bow and squirming in his lap. Gale slides his hands down my back and grips my hips to pull me so close I can feel him throbbing against me. The ache between my legs grows with every wild pulse of blood, and so does my curiosity how would it feel if I let him sate it.

Gale groans into my skin and holds me there for a moment, then suddenly pushes me to lie down, gripping my panties to discard them in one swift motion and running his fingers back up my legs.

His caress feels different than my own, the pleasure heightened by the thrill of the notion that we are doing this  _together_. At first he's pointedly avoiding the spot where I want his touch the most, driving me so wild I might be ashamed if I could bring myself to think twice about it.

I don't bother, though, and allow myself to surrender to his touch. Gale is my partner, and I trust him completely, even with something this intimate and potentially dangerous. And this delicious.

While I buckle my hips against his hand, craving even more than he's giving me now, his lips find my inner thigh, brushing light kisses over the sensitive skin, sliding further. I gasp loudly and let my head fall back into the soft grass, momentarily taken aback by yet another new sensation, but quickly settling to welcome it. My body arches upward and another strangled sound escapes my throat when his lips complete their slow journey into the junction of my thighs and stay there.

So  _this_ is how it feels…

Blinded with delight, I reach down and tangle my fingers in his hair to prevent him from pulling away. Gale doesn't even try to and parts my lower lips with his tongue, finding the bundle of raw nerves that seems to transform every touch into a sharp, almost painful spike of bliss.

 _Yesss_ , that's exactly what I imagined, and so much more. I definitely can't make myself feel quite like…  _this_.

I'm no longer trying to keep quiet – after all, I don't have to worry about waking my family here - and Gale obviously takes every sound as encouragement. Never stopping the motion of his tongue, he slowly slips his fingers in, longer and thicker than mine, and much more patient, sliding in and out with torturous care.

When the gentle friction finally drags me over the edge, it doesn't feel like falling, more like soaring on the warm currents. Compared to my secret and lonely efforts, it's like a rare full meal to a couple of bites that satisfy only the most gnawing hunger. My heart is beating like mad, all my muscles shaking a little, and I can't seem to catch my breath. I guess I don't even want to, because when Gale comes up to hold me, I press my lips against his at once to taste myself.

Shifting to lie by his side, I slowly let my hand wander down over his chest and stomach, intent on returning the pleasure. Gale helps me tug the waistband of his shorts down and I carefully close my hand around him, experimentally moving it up and down. I can't help but smile in smug delight at his reaction and tighten my grip, relishing the hard, silky smoothness under my hand and idly wondering how would he feel inside me. My just-quenched desire flares up at the thought.

Of course we'd have to be careful, because we absolutely can't afford to become three, but becoming one is too irresistible.

"Love me," I whisper, loosening my hand and caressing him with my fingertips.

"I love you," he breathes back, apparently without thinking, his fingers locking around my wrist.

"I know." My voice breaks a little, but Gale just smiles, because he knows too. "Make love to me."

His eyes open fully, still almost surprised. "For real?"

"Yeah. I can trust you, right?"

"I'll be careful. I promise." He gently turns me on my back, hands slipping under my arms and up to cradle the back of my head, hips settling between my open legs.

It hurts a little, though I'm all too ready for him, but I welcome even the pain. The accompanying pleasure makes up for it hundredfold and so does the sight of it reflected and magnified on Gale's face. His lips are parted and he returns my gaze from under half-closed lids, the eye-contact just as smoldering and intimate as the connection of our bodies.

It feels right. Natural. Nothing to be afraid of.

We have managed as a boy and a girl for long enough, and I'm sure we'll manage as a man and a woman just as well. Maybe even better in certain aspects. We are partners in everything now, and finding out that we  _can be_  is definitely worth it.


End file.
